geocentric flyby
out here in this continuum, it’s lonely, vast, and cold. i keep circling the sun, and yet. try as i might, i can’t get close enough to his warmth. but it’s almost cuffing season, and asteroids need love too. so i left apollo, i left the arjunas, flitting along interplanetary paths, until i saw her: all those blues and greens bleeding into one another. now gaia is all i can think about; i can’t resist her pull. i want to be her short-capture mini moon, pirouetting in a horseshoe path. i want to be her rocky, low-velocity lover, a navel-stone entrenched in her gravity. i want her to write about me, a modern-day autour de la lune, her harvest, hunter, frost moon. phobos and deimos, are you watching me? here i am, a temporary satellite dancing in the starlight. atlas, if only you could see me now.